Right Where I Am 2012: One Year, Two Weeks, Three Days

Still Life With Circles is hosting a blog link-up to talk about where individuals are in their journey after losing a child.  I decided to participate, so here goes... 

(although I just found it today, the link-up actually started on Elena's first birthday - to see where I was then, see her birthday blog entry)

It has been one year, two weeks, and three days since I last held my precious daughter.  I still ache for her.  I doubt that ever goes away.  This morning I was trying to organize baby toys and clothes, packing away things that my son (almost three now) has outgrown.  I have lots of boxes of clothes for him, and it is a little bittersweet (but mostly sweet) to reminisce about how quickly he has grown from his preemie days.  My first baby is not a baby anymore.  I found my box of baby girl clothes.  I couldn't bear to go through the box, full of outfits that Elena never had a chance to wear.  I hope someday to be able to use the clothes for a little sister for Elena, though I know it will be difficult that they will be "hand-me-downs" that still have the tags attached.  For now they sit untouched in a single box (she should have had at least a couple of boxes of outgrown clothing by now).  As I packed away the outgrown toys, I couldn't help but feel cheated.  Those toys should still be seeing use today.  Elena would be old enough to play with them now.  I try not to dwell on the "should be's," and I try to remain positive and optimistic.  My son deserves a happy childhood, and I need to be a role model for him of how to deal with grief, how to handle whatever circumstances life hands to us with dignity and grace.  I try; sometimes I'm not so sure how successful I am. 

I do know that I teach him to remember and love his baby sister, and most of the time I do feel somewhat successful there.  This morning he saw a hot air balloon in a video.  He asked what it was, and I tried to explain to him how it worked.  He said that he wanted to fill it with hot air and send it to heaven to Elena, and that she would send it back to him, and it would be a game they could play together.  Moments like those make my heart swell with pride and break with longing for what could have been.  My little boy shouldn't have to invent games to play with his sister in heaven - he should have her here in our home where they could play together.  I am so proud of him.

Today, one year, two weeks, three days (1,2,3), I am surviving.  I think of Elena often each day.  Although I ache for her, most of the time thinking of her makes me smile.  The tears still flow, but somehow they don't sting quite as badly as they once did.  I am forever her mom, and I love her and am thankful to have had the brief time I did with her.  I have hope in my grief that I will embrace my sweet princess again someday and live eternally with her and my Lord in heaven.

The Journey

I am still very new to the blogosphere. Had Elena lived, I probably would not have even started blogging (not yet, at least). But I suppose that it how the journey works - my life is changed in so many ways because Elena is gone from us (blogging being such a superficial example). Anyway, I decided to try to link up with Still Standing for The Journey in June.  The focus of the link up is to share where we are on the journey.

It has been one year and 13 days since Elena was born. Elena was beautiful and perfect, but she was born too early to survive. We were blessed with a little over 2 hours with our sweet baby girl before she returned to the arms of her Creator. I am just over a year down the road of this journey.  Some days are gentler than others.  The milestone days (such as her due date, the anniversary of my hospitalization, her birthday) and holidays are difficult, as most would probably expect, but sometimes just a regular day can hit me like a ton of bricks.  Sometimes I want to scream that it is all so terribly unfair.  I believe the death of a child is probably every parent’s worst nightmare, yet it is my reality, every single day.  I try to choose not to focus on it being “unfair;” after all, it does nothing to change the situation, nor does it bring any comfort.  Instead, I try to choose to focus on the blessing that Elena was, that Elena continues to be in our lives.  I choose to teach my almost three year ways to remember and show love for his little sister.  I choose to allow Elena’s brief life to positively impact the world on an ongoing basis.  I choose to remember my daughter with love and joy and pride.  And I choose to grieve with hope, hope that Elena’s life will touch others and, most importantly, hope that we will embrace our sweet princess again when we are reunited in our Eternal home.